The Voices
by sarsperilla
Summary: Draco has been acting strangely, unnerving Hermione when he continuely bumps into her in the hall. Then, when Hermione stumbles u pon the body of Correlle Madison, a first year, she has every reason to suspect Draco,but are more dire forces at work?
1. Hermione's Hair

Chapter One Hermoine stared glumly at her reflection in the elegant full length mirror, then down at the object in her hand. It looked like a hedgehogs back or a pin cushion: a multitude of bob-headed bristles embedded in black rubber, which was in turn imbedded in fake tortoiseshell shaped like a spoon. The hairbrush was as futile an effort as holding up a blade of grass to keep off the rain. She wasn't THAT bad, she supposed. Not since her teeth had been fixed. She wasn't obese or klutzy. She could be worse. But she wasn't graceful or athletic. That was just it:she was engagingly in the middle, ordinary, evan boring. And her hair.  
Hermoine growled her frustration. Why couldn't it just not be so dammed frizzy? If it looked a little bit less like it had been struck by lightning, she wouldn't recognize it at all...but aside from that, it would be wavy and golden brown, almost pretty. If her eyes weren't so glazed...if they sparked and shined, they would have been like liquid amber, but exams and more daunting evils had encouraged late nights and stolen their toll. A rustle alerted Hermoine to the presence of a wirey first year bouncing on the foot of her bed, which was positioned directly across from the mirror. The girl had waist length hair the color of flax, which was minimally kept-tangled, matted, and pulled back in a pony tail with a fat, beige elastic. Her name was embroidered on her cloak like the silver pendent of identification on a dogs collar. It read simply:Celia.  
Celia gave a last, enthusiastic bounce, then settled down, propping her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists. "you can't spend ALL day looking at yourself." she said peevishly. She delved into her cloak and came out with a short wand of ebony and quail plumage, which she looked down at skeptically. Frowning, she gave her wrist an abstract, absentminded flick and murmured the incantation of Ôlocomonorth'. Hermione squealed as she was lifted roughly by the nape of her neck and deposited to the right of the mirror by an immense, invisible hand. Celia smiled her satisfaction as Hermione angrily batted a clinging magical dust from her robes.  
"You could have just asked me to move." said Hermione sulkily. She could feel her cheeks coloring as she blushed furiously. She hated being caught looking in the mirror. It was something she rarely did, and very, very rarely for more then a moment. It made her feel daft and vain.  
Especially if she was caught.  
Celia snorted, and sprang to her feat, then fell back on her knees, landing with a soft whoof on the mattress. "You'd better get to class." she told Hermione, looking amused. Then, as though on casual afterthought, she added venomously:"I don't evan there's a SPELL that would tame your hair." Hermione balled her fist to quell a wave of anger, and said instead:"not one that a first year would know about. And anyways, I really don't care." As though to prove her point, she flicked her head defiantly and stalked from the room.  
Once she was in the hall, she headed for Snape's potions class, cursing creatively under her breath. (oh not like THAT-angrey though she was, she wasn't going to turn Celia into a toad or lock Snape's mouth shut so potions would be canceled. Evan a witch knows the value of fowl language.)To hell with potions. Dam that Celia. Where were Ron and Harry and when she needed them?  
Turning a corner, Hermione sighed and collected herself. Actually, she secretly suspected the reason for her uncomplimentary mood as of present was ode to the utter lack of malicious presences over the past mounths. Much as she had enjoyed going to bed on a full stomach of beef stew and lemon danishes, sleeping soundly and dreaming of nothing more frightening then a thunderstorm, Hermione was beginning to find that life as an ordinary student of Hogwarts could be dreadfully monotonous. She was actually beginning to miss sneaking off grounds and into the forbidden forest!  
Suddenly, Hermione stiffened. She felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand upright like a frightened cat. The image of a puffy, hissing black kitten embedded itself in her mind, and she stifled a snort despite the chill stillness that crept into the air. A loud, long, hollow whooshing like blowing across the rim of a bottle swept through the corridor. A faint purple mist seeped from the walls.  
And then Draco Malfoy was standing before her. 


	2. Apparation

Chapter Two "You can't apparate!" Hermione exclaimed instinctively.Not only could DRACO not apparate, but wasn't that supposed to be impossible for anyone in Hogwarts? Or was that just apparateing into or out of the school? Suddenly Hermiones normally level head was as warped as a board left out in the rain. She staggered backwards in a mixture of shock and bewilderment.  
Draco smirked."I didn't." He stood before her passively. He could tell she was thinking furiously, trying to puzzle out his abrupt apearence. He could see it her stance-guarded but preocupied- and her eyes, which gleamed hard but still seamed distant. He felt suddenly exasperated with Hermione. She was bright to the point of being dull. Like how it is possible to walk across a sheet of solid pins because together they are flat instead of pointy. Magicly, Draco knew she was equal. Acedemicly, she lapped him. But there was an underlying cleverness to Draco, a keen, cool, illusive alertness and defteness that at times seamed to have skipped Hermione. Draco shifted. He could tell he was making her uneasy.  
Good.  
He considered not telling her what he'd done. It would be worth it. But he knew she'd find out in the end. She'd go to the library and look up spells. She'd ask Hagrid if he knew anything like that, any glitches or exceptions, any Malfoy gossip. Still....if she thought he could apparate.  
Draco couldn't help a wintry smile. "you'd better get to class." Draco looked amused."so had you." He reguarded her for a moment, head cocked slightly to one side."shall we walk together?" "I shall walk to potions. You shall walk to potions. But we will NEVER be walking to potions together." Hermione spat venomously and, setting her jaw in a firm line, started on her way.  
Draco matched her pace."so we shall not." he said icenly.  
"You couldn't have apparated." Draco stopped, making sure he was a pace ahead so Hermione would brought up short as well. He turned towards her, and made his smile apear almost warm, shaking his head ever so slightly. "But I didn't!" he told her innocently.  
"I know. You can't have." "Hermione..." "We're late for class."Hermione shouldered past Draco and into the potions class. As she headed for her seat at the back of the room, where Ron was motioning enthusiasticly, Draco tried again.  
"I saw you coming and I cast a chameleon illusen. The wind and the mist...that was all theatrics. But you're too bloody close minded to think of anything but what the books tell you."Draco smiled his satisfaction.  
Hermione looked crumpled. He could tell it had clicked in her head. She struggled to stay on top of her own self disapointment and anger. But her retort caught Draco off guard. "why would you go to all that trouble for me?" Draco's pupils dilated in surprise. Before he could answer, Hermione spun on her heals and stalked to the seat awaiting her arival. Ron on one side, Harry on the other.  
Rats, thought Draco. He'd been having fun.  
With a sigh, Draco trudged over to where crab and goyle where situated. The two bored him. They irritated him. They were mindless oafs, blind followers. If he wanted, he could make them lemmings off a cliff. They liked being told it was O.K to resort to violence;they didn't care why, or if they had any grudge against the object of their attack. Draco didn't want attack dogs. He wanted allies with wolf packs. But Draco was a Malfoy, and those two were the best he could get.  
He settled into a seat beside them as Snape begane the lesson.  
Draco didn't listen. Snape reveered the Malfoy name, so Draco didn't have to.  
Instead, Draco let his mind and eyes wander. They both seamed to settle on the far, dusty corner of the room-on a gingerhaired girl furiously scribbling out notes. Draco's guard was down. He found himself wishing he could know her, talk to her without pretense and hidden intentions. She was so smart...so....so.  
NO! Draco sat bolt upright, as though snapped back to reality. What was he thinking??? He was a Malfoy! She was a MUDBLOOD! He was in slytherin! she was In GRYFFENDOR! The idea of ever, ever, trying to befreind her let alone.  
Was out of the question. 


	3. Potions Class

Chapter Three Hermione crouched over her notebad. Her fingures were sore from how tightly she held the quill. They allmost seamed to throb. She could feal Draco's eyes on her. She slouched her shoulders and whished she could hide under the compftering folds of Harry's invisibility cloak. She knew something was up, could feal as surely as a bird feals the coming storm. She'd always hated Draco on Harry's part, but would she have to start hateing him on her own? Her thoughts were interupted when a sharp jab in her side turned out to be Harry's bony elbow. "sppt! What are you writing?" he hissed. "Snape stopped talking, you know." "I...er..." Hermione started, then stopped. What WAS she writing? She realized she'd been scribbling madly just to hide and distract herself and she had no idea WHAT! Slowly, Hermione corrected her posture, sliding her sheltering arm from the page, fealing almost afraid. The page was a labrynth of ink lines and splotches. Relief flooded Hermiones whole. Harry looked disapointed. He shrugged, then grinned an elvish grin. His emrald eyes sparkled as they sought out hers, and he seamed freindly and very very clueless. His black hair stuck up at random angles, and his glasses seamed more crooked then normal. "For once YOU'RE the one who isn't working!" Harry joked.  
Hermione smiled and Harry turned her back to her. She was beginning to notice what Harry hadn't. AT the middle of the page, the scribbles lost the arbitraryness that defined them and took on the guise of a single word, a single name:  
Draco.  
Hermione looked around swiftly, one arm firmly planted over the page. She had been so preocupied, so worried about the blonde slytherin....surely her nerves had spelt out her anxietys for her? It couldn't be anything else, could it? As she glanced about, she seamed fidgetty and fretfull as a squirrle scouting for potential thefts of a nut hoard. She turned and found herself locked in Draco's Icy blue gaze.  
Draco smirked. His eyes were hazy, almost misty like the sea cloaked by a mourning fog. As though Draco was currently residing inside the depths of Draco. In a daydream.  
It was hard for Hermione to imagine what Draco would have to daydream about.  
She quickly looked away. But not before she caught a flicker of something confusing in Draco's gaze. Regrette? Surprise?Guilt?It could mean almost anything, that sharp blue glint.  
"The notes you are takeing must be very thorough, Hermione Granger. Would you care to explain to anyone who's notes are not how precisely to go about adding ingrediants to the NightVision Elixer?" Hermiones amber eyes bulged. What was she supposed to say? A lot of scribbles and Draco? Hell, her notes made less sense than snow in July!  
Discretely, Harry elbowed his paper into her veiw. If she shifted in her seat....mabye Snape wouldn't notice.  
too late to worry, Hermione started to read:"Simmer the Owl talons untill the claws start to peel. Then add the Moon Flower, petal by petal." she looked up and met Snapes challenging stare. She made a guess and said:"It won't work if you add them whole." Snape looked passive. Hermione drew a shuddering breath and glanced back to the paper, taking advantage of the moment to read the next ingrediant."and then the...."but it ended there. There was more!! That Harry hadn't written! Hermione panicked.  
Pointedly, Snape raised an eyebrow.  
Hermione looked franticly to Harry, who was no help at all. She turned slightly, as though she thought the answer might materialize before her. Draco looked amused and irritated. Hermione felt frozen.  
and then the gimwart. He mouthed. But he hadn't bothered to turn towards Crab and Goyle. Was it a trap? Or had he simply been saying the right answer to himself,hopeing she wouldn't notice?  
She had to take the chance.  
"...and lastly, the gimwart."Hermiones voice quavered.  
Snape stared her down for a long moment. Hermione recoiled, fealing like a flower wilting under the heat of a magnifying glass held to the sun. Then he nodded abruptly and turned back to his desk.  
Square shouldered back to the class, he said:"You may begin." 


	4. voices

Chapter Four The taste of bile was in Draco's mouth.  
The smell of Hermione clotted his nostrils.  
He stood tentitive, frozen behind her, waiting in line to gather ingrediants. A set of owls talons. Three moon flowers. A rope of grimweed, no more than a foot in length, no less than nine inches.  
He repeated the list in his mind, trying to distract himself.  
He didn't know why he'd said it.  
He'd known she would know what he'd said, known that it would save her.  
But he'd said it anyways!  
It was so desprately wrong and out of charactor it made his pretty head swim.  
with images of her and a wave of nasuea start in the pit of his stomach, creaping through his veins to numb his entire being.  
Hermine gathered her things. He refused to watch her go. He shouldered roughly past her and crammed the ingrediants into the wide, hidden inner pockete of his school robes. He strode briskly to his desk and worked in silence.  
Evan and Crab and Goyle were intellegent enough to avoid the seething slytherin.  
  
"It's turning orange. Is it supposed to do that?"ron asked glumly. He, Harry, and Hermione were working in a threesome. They had just finished adding the Moonflower, and suddenly the cauldron had erupted like vinager and baking soda.  
Only orange.  
Hermione prodded the concoction with a spoon. "I don't think so. Did anyone put two petals in at once?" Harry looked sheepish.  
Hermione looked down her nose.  
"well..er..yes...actually..."Harrys voice was squeaky and quiet."you did. just now." Hermione felt her cheaks redden.  
She knew she had. She'd been thinking:somethings goeing on with draco,somethings not as she plucked and dropped the petals in, like how cunfused teenagers think he loves me, he loves me not. Two petals from the end, she realized that if she kept going as she was, from the flowers perspective at least, something was wrong. She couldn't admit that.  
So she'd pulled off two petals at once, potion forgotten.  
somethings not. She'd thought with guilty, tainted, unconvincing finality. "NO, i didn't. The petal was split down the middle."she lied.  
"if you say so..."Harry said reluctantly.  
"but it's awfully orange." "It's not THAT orange. Just sort of FUNGUS orange. Not neon orange. Yet." Hermione and Ron glared at Harry.  
"It's awfully orange."Harry admitted with a heavy sigh.  
Luckily, at that moment, the hour was up, and Potions was dismissed.  
  
Draco made his way down the gloomy corridor, clutching his books to his chest. Although he stood streight and imprevious as ever, he felt no such thing. Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione.  
"girls gonna get it." The voice made Draco start. He kept walking, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment, not evan having the heart to give the wayfearer a hard time.  
Any other day he would have been an unfortunate wayfearer.  
But today he wasn't worth Draco's energy.  
He didn't bother to scout out the boy, just kept on walking, almost glad of the distraction.  
"Granger..."the voice sneered.  
Draco went stiff.  
"If she wasn't there, Harry wouldn't be a problem. He's lucky, that's all. She's clever. He needs her. And she's always gaining points for Gryffendor." Draco froze, pressing his ear to a wall. The voice was oviously just around the bend, but it wasn't moving. Draco listened intently.  
"All we've got to do is finish rigging this and get Dumbledor down here. When he sees her....with..with..."the voice broke off in a fit of giggles. "...at the scene of the crimb..she'll be expelled! Possibly injured, too. But definately expelled!" Draco swore he could hear someone rubbing their hands together in glee.  
He knew Hermione was headed to Arithmancy. He hoped no one would notice him being late.  
There was something he had to do. 


	5. Correlle Madison

Chapter Five Hermione closed her eyes, rubbing her head.  
How many times could Draco pop up in one day?Was he going out of his way to make her life extrodinarly cunfusing?  
She spun to face him, teeth barred. Her hair spun out around her, whiping out so fast the ends stung the Malfoy's cheak.  
He took a step back, and, rubbing his cheak, ground his jaw and looked away.  
"WHAT?"Hermione spat, her hands flying naturally to her hips.  
"take the long way to arithmancy."Draco mumbled, refusing to meat her gaze.  
"WHAT?" Draco looked up defiantly."Take the long way to arithmancy today." he said again, dareing her to challenge him.  
Hermione glanced at the ceiling and growled in frustration. "Or you'll WHAT? turn me into a TOAD? Good god Draco, you're looseing your touch!" Draco sighed in exasperation."It's not a threat. It's a warning." "and I should take your word for it, WHY?" Draco had to admit she had a point. She really had a point. REALLY had a point. WHAT THE HELL WAS HE DOING?  
He shrugged nonchalently. "mabye you'll end up a toad if you don't take the long root. And if you do, I just hope you can croak out an apolagy." Draco swept swiftly past and was gone before Hermione could open her mouth to retort.  
could this day get any weirder?  
It could.  
Hermione discovered this when she continued on her way, taking the short root for all the ovious reasons. As she rounded the corner, something moved in the outskirts of her peripheral vision. She bearly had time to register the spell before it hit her, certainly not enough to pull out her wand and reverse it.  
The blood on her hands was fresh and wet. It looked so real evan Hermione almost believed it. It was an illusen, but a tangible one. It was real to all five senses. It evan TASTED real-salty and thick where a drop brushed her lip.  
And there was no mistaking that the corpse that lay at her feat was real.  
Corrle Madison, the irksome first year, looked almost peacefull. A binding spell that only seventh years were taught had sealed her lips and her nostrils, evan her ears. Hermione felt sick, panicked.  
She heard footsteps.  
Like the beat of a hunters drum.  
First they froze her.  
Then they spurred into motion.  
She bolted for the bathroom and franticly washed the blood from her hands. It was cloying, stubburn. But at last it was gone. She looked at her face in the mirror.  
She hardly reconinzed herself.  
She looked awful. Pale as a ghost, her brown eyes and frizzed hair looked wild and marked her a madwomen. She was every inch the suspect. She longed for the girl she'd seen in the mirror only that morning. Tears trickled down her cheaks.  
She had to get to Dumbledore before whoever had layed the trap did!  
She bolted for Arithmancy.  
She took the long root.  
  
Hermione burst through the doors just as the teacher called her name on roll. She looked like a tortured wild thing, and instantly both Harry and Ron sprang from their seats and rushed to her. "are you alright?" Ron asked franticly, brushing a lock of hair away from her brow. Her forhead was sticky with a cold, nervous sweat.  
"what happened??"Harry buzzed uselessy around,looking really nervous.  
"I--"Hermione swayed on her feat. "Co-Correll Madison....she's...." Ron swore he could see tears on her cheak.  
Hermione was looking over his shoulder. In the hallway outside, Draco passed by. Glancing in, he looked astonished. Then everything went black for Hermione. 


	6. Most Wanted Man in Hogwarts

Chapter Six Draco was the next to stumble across the body.  
He was tracing Hermiones assumed root to Arithmancy, Trying to puzzle out what had happened.  
When he saw the body he stumbled backwards in shock.  
This was far more serious than he'd thought.  
He heard footsteps.  
Instinct told him to duck for cover. He found it behind a mammoth portriat of dumbledore that reclined against the stone wall.  
"hells bells- what are you doing back there? not graffittying, are you?" the portrait asked.  
"hells bells?"Draco mimicked absently, hugging his knees to his chest to avoid rocking the painting. A spider scurried across the tapestry carpete, and draco squished it under his thumb. "evan the real dumbledore wouldn't say that." "are you quite sure--?"The portrait sounded disgruntled.  
"SHHH!" Draco shushed the portrait. "If you don't stop talking I WILL find something to write pretty words on your backside with!" "pretty words?like flowers?" "no. like shut the bloody hell up." The portrait silenced just as the footprints owners came into veiw, looming over the body. Draco felt sick.  
"Do you have any idea who did this?"Dumbledores voice inquired sharply.  
"Yes." Draco could clearly imagine the definate air about Hermione, the way her chin would be set in a firm line, the angrey glint in her eyes as she spoke of the murderer.  
Her next words jarred Draco from his subconscouis.  
"Draco."She said."It was Draco Malfoy." Draco listened numbly as she told of how he had told her to take the long way to Arithmancy. How doubtless he knew she wouldn't listen to him, and had thus lurred her into a trap. Of how an illusen spell had cast false blood on her hands.  
Draco knew he had to act quickly. Who's words were they going to believe? Perfect, sweet, gryfendor Hermione granger? Or cold, sinister, slytherin Malfoy? Ha! He felt cold through and through.  
There would be posters. A bounty. He would have to run.  
HE would be a wanted man.  
"serves you right for trying to play the good boy."Draco mumbled to himself. His voice quavered. He was in state of wry shock, unwilling to admit the aqusations that had befallen him.  
He sat frozen like a dear in the glare of a truck's headlights untill the duo had left. Then he botled for the Slytherinn commonroom.  
Draco packed in a blurr of terror and cunfusion. Since he couldn't possibly be lugging around his trunk, he simply stuffted his pocketes with a spell book, his wand, leftover ingrediants from potions class, all his spare change and money, and whatever else he could his hands on that was small enough to fit.  
Then he mounted his broomstick, through open the windows and headed for Hogsmeade.  
  
The wind rushed past, mucking Draco's immaculate blonde hair. It stuck up almost as Harry's by the time he reached his destination. He couldn't go home. Although the senior Malfoy had commited a legion of crimes in his days, he would not want Draco to draw trouble to his home. So Draco had headed to the Hogsmeade in, a ramshackle,shady motel that was too badly in need of cash to question it's patrons or their requests. Draco exchanged a hefty fist of gold for the only key to the basement room that was normally the last to go. The clerks beady black eyes buldged at the sight of the coins and readily agreed to tell no one of his presence. If asked, he was to say the janiter lived in the basement and had asked not to be disturbed.  
Draco emptyed his pocketes into the drawer of the bed side table and locked the door. He put as sturdy a glamour as could on the only, cob-webbed window so it would apear that only shadows inhabbited the room, and a flimsy sealent spell on the door. It wouldn't hold anyone for ever-let alone the esteemed headwizard, but it might buy him some time.  
Then, as the enormity of what he had done set in,Draco through himself on the bed and gave in to fevered slumber. 


End file.
